


Festering

by JustSomeSmutHere



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Breath Control, C137cest, M/M, Rape, Rick/Morty - Freeform, Wetting, that's rough buddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 19:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12588724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeSmutHere/pseuds/JustSomeSmutHere
Summary: Rick has urges. Unhealthy ones. They're buried deep. Doesn't mean they aren't there.Part 8





	Festering

Rick stood in the doorway to Morty's room, leering at him as he slept peacefully, his back turned to him.  
In just a few quick strides he was over him, his face menacing, a cold gleam in his dead, lifeless eyes. He took a quick swig of something strong and bitter from his flask, not taking his eyes off of the kid, still blissfully unaware of his presence. That was about to change.

With one more swig for good measure, twisting the cap hastily back onto the flask and pocketing it, he crept onto the bed, listening to it creak from his weight.

Morty woke slowly and began to turn around. Rick's hand was already around his throat and Morty squeaked in protest and confusion as he gave a soft squeeze, pressing him back against the bed.

“Heeyyy baby. D-daddy's hungry.”

He violently pulled the sheets down, earning a proper shriek this time.

“Scream all you want, cutie, we sound proofed this room together, remember?”

Morty's eyes were wide, frightened as Rick trailed a finger down his cheek before giving it a few none-too-gentle pats. Morty winced. He was over top of him now, grinning. It wasn't a nice smile, not at all. 

“R-rick..?”  
He still wasn't quite awake yet, there was disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, I've been here for like a whole minute you little whore.”

Morty's brow furrowed in further confusion.

One knee was already kneading at the boy's crotch making him let out a moan. But then his hand was at his throat again, squeezing. Morty's eyes popped open again and he choked, trying to cough. Rick gave his face a quick, harsh slap, leaving an angry red mark. Morty wailed.

“Shut up you little shit. Do you know that I can't even drink anymore without thinking about you and feeling guilty?! I can't even FUCK anymore! I tried to fuck this BANGIN' hot chick last week and guess what happened. I coooouuldn't even get it up! BECAUSE OF YOU!” He shook him hard for emphasis.

Tears coursed down Morty's face and he hiccuped as he tried to speak.  
“I-I-I thought yo-you liked wha-what we haaad.”  
He was full on crying. Rick slapped him again.

“Stop crying, pussy!”  
He leaned down close, teeth clenched as he gritted out.  
“You did this to yourself! This is YOUR fault. My god you're such a cockslut you couldn't even say no to your own GRANDFATHER!”

The old man grabbed his crotch hard, squeezing punishingly tightly.

Morty's breath caught in his throat and it was only about five seconds before he was gagging in pain.  
Rick leaned closer, glaring before his eyes twitched and he stopped.

“Oh my god, are-are you hard?! Holy shit! Sick pathetic fuck. You really are sick. I thought I was sick. You like this?”

He took his hand from Morty's neck long enough to let him reply.

Morty coughed again hoarsely, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at the fabric of Rick's lab coat, his legs trying to weakly push him off with absolutely no success.

“N-no! Rick stop! PLEASE! Why are you-”  
He fell into another coughing fit.

“THEN WHY ARE YOU HARD FUCKFACE?!”

Morty was sobbing as Rick yelled into his face.  
“PLEASE...!”

Rick was laughing maniacally as he forced Morty's hand to his dick roughly.  
“HA HAAAA! You're not the only one! Bet you still want it. No matter what I do to you, you'll always be a slave for my cock. You're twisted. Bet you'd even fuck your own sister.”

Morty wailed in despair and shook his head hard.  
“St-stop! Stop RICK! No!”

Before he could do another thing, Rick had his dick whipped out, ripping Morty's pajama bottoms down and spreading one of his soft, yielding asscheeks. He spit on his hand and rubbed it on himself, for his own benefit, certainly not Morty's. Fuck him.

The boy squealed again as he shoved himself as deep as he'd go in one quick thrust. Morty let out a deep groan of pain, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears leaked down his face, body wracked with sobs.

Rick was panting now. He hadn't even fucked him yet and he was halfway there. He began fucking him with rough thrusts, regardless of Morty's protests and cries. The boy wasn't hard anymore. Lovely purple bruises were blossomed over his neck. With a hungry growl he reached to that soft throat of his again and squeezed hard, feeling Morty clench down around him involuntarily, making him groan loudly.

“Yeah that's it.. Fffuck.”

He was nailing Morty, there was no way he wasn't tearing him up inside. No prep, no lube. Fuck he was so tight.

Rick's orgasm was sudden and quick, making him grunt through his teeth with each spurt, filling the trembling heap of his grandson completely.

Hoarse sobs were all Morty could manage, his body quaking and twitching, barely able to breathe as Rick squeezed his neck.

Rick pulled out of him and watched with pleasure as a mixture of semen and blood spilled slowly out of him, making him shiver.

He let go of Morty like dropping a spider. The boy gasped and coughed, a little bit of vomit coming up from how hard he hacked, his voice all raw and coughing.

It was rare for Rick to see someone's eyes so full of loathing and agony. He almost got hard again.  
“You-you-”  
More coughing, a little more vomit.  
“M-MONSTER!”  
He spat the word out like venom.

“Theeere it is! Yeah tell me how you really feel!”

Morty scooted feebly away, still shaking uncontrollably. He gasped for breath between each word.

“FUCK! YOU! RICK!”

He noticed a puddle where Morty had been and he laughed harshly.

“YOU PISSED YOURSELF!! HAHAHA! Ahhh you're fucking disgusting.”

Rick kicked him roughly, making him squeal as he curled up in the corner against the wall on his bed, sobbing and hyperventilating.

“That's what you really are, Morty. A dingleberry of the universe. A pussy. Weak. You-”

Rick tore the helmet off his head and vomited violently, spraying the floor with it. It didn't stop there. He emptied his entire stomach. Alcohol-tinged sourness filled the garage, pungent, overwhelming.

He sat up again, shaking as he wiped a trembling hand across his mouth, sniffling. Tears were already slipping down his cheeks, his eyes red. He put his head in his hands for a moment before grappling for the gun within hand's reach. With trembling fingers he cocked it and put it to his temple. It was shaking so much he could barely keep it there. Images of Morty flitted through his brain and he immediately whipped the gun at the wall. It slammed into a cabinet, littering the ground with several beakers, smashing loudly in the quiet.

He pressed his hands to his eyes hard enough to see stars and cried in earnest.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeaaah this one was hard for me to write but I felt compelled to do it to push my boundaries as a writer. I feel kind of sick. I need a hug. Someone get me some c137cest fluff, STAT! Sorry, I know it needs editing but I don't really want to. It's written, it's done.


End file.
